Posts Tagged ‘design’

As I write this, the cold winds of winter still brushing against the land, the paperwork hasn’t all been signed and filed and the preparation of some basic material is still pending, but… I am really excited at the prospect of not having to rush things. Yes, there is a date picked for the launch of the madness train, but it is more of a celebration of publishing as a thing that exists rather than a point at which material must be produced by.

I’ve been poring over old titles to see why literature makes me so happy (I had fourteen books in the caravan, and all of them were read multiple times), and the realization that everything has a place in the grand order came to me. Like an insight which should have been obvious, but needed pushing towards in order to be uncovered.

It is simple to see, looking back, that the Penguin titles were the foundation of color as a brand. The use of bold color to indicate genre was not new to marketing, with the most visible use being vinyl records, but books feel different – less readily catalogued, more unwieldy. While a simple border color can hint at things being part of some larger scheme, it doesn’t readily follow that it would work for every title.

Indeed, it can harm future titles if a books performs remarkably badly, hinting that the rest of the works accompanying the title follows in the same direction. It also makes it difficult to see the movement in genre styles which come with the passing of time, putting older works and modern into a great stew which makes discerning patterns – ironically – more difficult.

Using specific fonts is another way in which a line can stand out, but this creates the same problems. Design? House designs tend to skew towards the old ‘familiarity breeds contempt’ mindset, and even though a great number of iconic, timeless titles originally appeared under basic covers, I am less than enthused about the use of strict house styles. Maybe it is a way of preparing books for the world which has had its moment

When the future chroniclers of the state of ebooks come to talk of design, what will be the consensus on design quality? Will there be gushing commentary regarding the chances taken, or will there be mockery. I am worried that we are all going to look like cavemen when historians living on the moon begin to disseminate their masterworks on literary history.

There is already a Tumblr about bad Kindle covers, and while I feel bad for those covered, it might be the impetus to shake up their process. Hell, it could drive people to pick up one of the books to see what the contents are like, but I might be wrong about that – if anyone has had a title mentioned there, they might want to mention how it affected their sales, if at all.

There are a few things which I look for when I am out at bookshops, but with the notion that everyone is different, please note: this is a personal observation. Woodcut prints stand out, block colors work if the story is easily conveyed, and painted covers can hit or miss depending on the artist used. Simple color schemes are dramatic in isolation, but among a variety of similar imagery gets lost easily.

And here’s something weird: In the last decade, but especially so in the last few years, the trend of using iconic schemes from other media seems to be picking up. Covers which mimic old computer game releases, or video cassettes, or even audio cassettes, are on a bit of a wave right now. I’m not sure if that is retro-love or laziness, but it amuses me to see throwaway culture being immortalized now.

Where are we going? Well, there are still plenty of uncharted atolls we can reach by getting an overall sense of the map. Which is a growing trend, apparently. Books about maps, that is. I’m not a great fan of the introspective titles using maps as metaphor, but straight-up map books? Hell yes. I may be in the minority when it comes to those, but they always seem so optimistic to me. Maps as a way of looking at the world.

I’m not sure where this post was heading.

I started with something about books being awesome, but got turned around.

There are compelling reasons to seek out an original title for a book – a clear title – rather than slipping into the habit of a clever quotation or a well-used phrase. While many, many more people might search for the more familiar phrase, how many of them are going to find their way to a publication rather than sites explaining the origins of the phrase. A clear title isn’t just something no-one else is using, it should be immediately transparent from looking at the name what genre and tone the book is going to have.

Which all goes against me writing something which has a name dripping with history. Yes the book called Red Cough-cough-cough.

Yes, I suck at taking my own advice. Then again, if I was all that smart I would be living in Maui.

The notion of the Big Six making copycat covers amuses me – people acting like it is a surprise that they don’t have the budget to go and do some amazingly original things. It has prompted me to look at what I hunt for when I go to purchase a book. I’m not sure there is ever going to be a consensus on what counts as original, but I like that such conversations can be mooted.

And then there’s this…

For a song called Originality, there is a distinct lack of it. Does familiarity in the materials being utilized towards a goal lessen the impact, even when then are put together in a new and unusual way? It plays into what I have been considering, and I like the idea that there are only a finite number of ways to present a title to readers – the individual elements coming together each time in a (hopefully) new way.

Everyone knows what Lego is, so it is a perfect analogy for the basic building blocks of cover design. You can switch the colors around, pull out an eight-stud block for two square four-stud blocks, or dare to live dangerously and fill the space with single-stud blocks. The best part of Lego is the lack of rules when it comes to design and structure. Sure, you make sure that there are overlapping elements to keep it from falling apart, but other than that the only limiting factor is imagination.